


all that my heart longs for, fulfill

by lovebeyondmeasure



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Retail, Awesome Pepper Potts, Clint Barton Is a Good Bro, F/F, Lesbian Maria Hill, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, fluff with a plot, the rest of the crew hasn't appeared yet but they will, this is a blackhill story but all the avengers will make an appearance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-04
Updated: 2017-10-20
Packaged: 2019-01-09 00:25:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12265131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovebeyondmeasure/pseuds/lovebeyondmeasure
Summary: The retail/coffeeshop AU literally one person asked for. Featuring Maria working at Shield Books for Fury, Natasha as the new girl in Coulson's bridal shop, Clint as a general disaster, and the rest of the Avengers, eventually. Characters tagged as they appear.Sweet mother, I cannot weave,Maria thought as the beautiful woman moved to the next window.I’m just too fucking gay.________________This work updates sporadically. It is not abandoned.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the fictional town of Kirbleigh! This is, first and foremost, a Blackhill fic, but I have places for every Avenger here. They'll be tagged as they appear. Also, there will be a real plot, I promise. (And a real coffeeshop, that's not just a tag!)
> 
> Will update when I can, no set posting schedule. Share this fic on tumblr using [this post!](http://lovebeyondmeasure.tumblr.com/post/166041689714/)
> 
> Title from Sappho (trans. by Julia Dubnoff):
> 
> Come to me now once again and release me  
> from grueling anxiety.  
> All that my heart longs for,  
> fulfill. And be yourself my ally in love’s battle.
> 
> The bit about weaving is also a Sappho reference.

It was a Monday. Mondays were, without fail, almost as boring as Tuesdays.

Maria leaned casually on the countertop, ostensibly reading the new catalogue but in reality trying to see through the windows of the shop across the street. Nothing blocked her view but the curtains, it being a cobbled street meant more for people than cars. However, she was still having trouble getting a clear picture of the inside of the store.

“Hill!” her boss’s voice startled her. “Are you done with the catalogue, or are you just gonna cradle it all day, like a goddamn baby?” Maria laughed, knowing from his tone that the bookstore was empty.

“Hey, man, no need to live up to your name,” she said, tossing the catalogue to him. It was an old joke between them by now, after nearly six years of working together.

“I’ll do whatever I damn well please, Hill, and you know it,” Nick Fury said, coming to lean next to her at the counter. His tall frame came between the light and Maria, leaving his profile in silhouette. She was on his eyepatch side, which was a mark of trust she knew few others could boast of.

“You’re the boss, boss,” Maria said, turning to lean on the counter with her elbows.

“So what, you’re trying to peep into the bridal shop now? Dreaming of your own special day?” Fury nudged her foot with his own, his tone dry. Maria knew he was teasing her.

“No, Clint told me that Coulson hired new help and she starts today,” Maria said. Was that a redhead moving around the fixtures? She wished they’d open the curtains fully. “He said she’s really something, and from Clint, you know that’s saying a lot.”

“So your lesbian self is trying to get a glimpse of this fabled newcomer,” Fury said. He flipped through the catalogue as though he didn’t care what he was saying. “Well, as long as you don’t go staring at the staff next door instead of helping our customers.”

“What customers?” she asked, another of their long-running jokes. Shield Books tended to be very quiet during the mornings on weekdays, when Maria usually worked. They had plenty of customers during the semesters, when their college town came alive, but in the summers it was long, sleepy days in air conditioning that was best described as “passable.”

Fury tapped Maria’s shoulder with the rolled-up catalogue. “Don’t get creepy, Hill. I don’t need you turning into a Peeping Tom.”

She turned to give him an ironic salute. “No worries, sir. I’ll be careful not to get caught.”

Fury gave a bark of laughter and pushed off the counter to go to the back office. “Hold down the fort, Hill, and let me know if any of these new books catch your eye.”

“Yes, sir!” Maria turned back to the window just in time to see the curtains across the street be flung open by the most beautiful redhead she’d ever seen. The woman saw Maria staring, her eyes widening, before smiling and giving a sort of half-wave. Maria waved back, heart pounding. 

_Sweet mother, I cannot weave,_ Maria thought as the beautiful woman moved to the next window. _I’m just too fucking gay._

==========

Natasha was carefully following Coulson’s instructions to the letter. Clint had told her that Coulson was a relaxed man, actually “a chill sort of guy, usually,” but it was her first day and she had no intention of screwing this up.

As Coulson opened the single cash register, Natasha swiffered the hardwood floors and vacuumed the carpeted areas, then wiped down the mirrors and glass where they were smudged. The light filtering through the filmy curtains gave everything a sort of dreamy feel; it was nearly 10, when they opened, and she finished a few minutes early.

“Natasha, could you open the curtains?” Coulson asked. “I’m going to turn on the music and get the new inventory from the back, and we can start with that once we’re open.”

Natasha walked around the store, opening and tying back the many curtains. The shop was on the corner, so there were many, many windows. As she pulled back the curtains on one of the leftmost windows, she made eye contact with a woman in the store across the way.

_Blin!_ she thought. _What a handsome woman!_ The brunette’s eyes were wide, and Natasha raised a tentative hand to wave. The other woman’s mouth tugged upwards, crookedly, and she waved back.

Natasha pulled herself away from the window, moving to the next one, trying to look as though she was utterly unconcerned by the woman watching her but making sure she was moving gracefully as she finished her task. _Stop this, Natalya,_ she scolded herself. _There’s no way to know if she is open to women. Focus on your job._

She unlocked the doors as Coulson came from the back, strains of classical music coming from the speakers now. Coulson hummed along as he set down the box, which must have been heavy but which he carried lightly.

“Alright, Natasha, let’s get our sparkle on,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “We’re coming up on homecoming season, and there’s gonna be a rush on this stuff, so I’m gonna start you on that.”

As they began slicing open boxes, Coulson with the ease of someone comfortable with blades and Natasha with the quick, sure movements of a dancer, she allowed Coulson’s easy chat about each of the items to absorb her attention away from the woman across the street.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint appears, bearing Chinese food and information. Natasha daydreams.

Maria was watching the clock. It was very nearly one p.m. She’d had two customers: one had been a middle-aged woman buying the latest in a romance series centering on fairytale characters being sucked into the real world and falling in love with brawny police officers and firefighters and doctors and such, and the other a high-school student desperate to buy the school's tenth-grade summer required reading, since the library’s copies were all taken. The hunt for the correct edition had been the most exciting part of her day.

At six past one, the bell over the door rang, and in stumbled Clint, carrying- glory!- a bag of takeout from the Chinese place down the street.

“If that bag contains dumplings from Lily Pad, I’m going to have to marry you,” she said by way of greeting.

“God, please no,” he replied, setting the bag on the counter. “You’d murder me in a week.”

“Clint, I’d murder you at the reception,” she said, reaching for the steaming takeout.

“Hey Odin! Lunch’s here!” he called through the office door. There was a shuffling noise, then Fury’s head popped out.

“Double Delight with garlic sauce?” he asked, squinting. 

“Absolutely, sir,” Clint managed with a straight face, while Maria choked quietly on the first blissful bite of a dumpling.

“What’s his order called?” she asked, once Fury had retreated with his containers.

“Double Delight. With garlic sauce. I know,” Clint nodded, waving his chopsticks. “I can barely say it out loud when I’m ordering it. But he loves it.”

Maria hummed a few bars of “Afternoon Delight” as she sopped up the last of her soy sauce, which made Clint grin so hard the bandaid on the side of his face threatened to fall off from the stress. 

“So,” she said as he was vacuuming up the last of his lo mein. “Dish. Tell me about the Hot Redhead.”

“So you’ve seen her?” Clint asked, a crafty glint in his eye. Maria was sure it had no business being there.

“Yeah, I saw her this morning.”

“Were you... watching for her?” Maria whacked him in the side of the head with the closest thing to hand- luckily for Clint, it was the takeout menu.

“Shut up, tell me about her. What’s her name? Where’s she from? Clint, no, don’t fuck with me, I see that look. Is she into girls. At all. I need to know this, you fucker, don’t toy with me.”

Clint slurped the last of his noodles with deep satisfaction. Maria raised the menu again.

“Hey, hey, let a man eat! Uh, her name’s Natasha, she’s from Russia by way of New York, and I’m pretty sure she’s not opposed to the fairer sex.”

“Pretty sure?”

“Well, I know she’s into guys, and I know she’s been with women, but- it’s, uh. It’s complicated. Hey! Don’t threaten me, it’s not my story to tell, ask her. If you can even talk to her.”

“I can talk to women better than you can, arrow boy.”

“That’s still not funny, Maria. It’s never gonna be funny.”

“It’s hilarious and you know it. Seriously, though, can’t you tell me anything else about her?” Maria did her best impression of a beautiful woman batting her eyes.

Clint sighed and leaned heavily on the counter. “Maria, I told you, her story’s kinda complicated and I don’t want to tell people without her permission.”

“Okay. Fine. I get it.” Maria strode over to one of the chairs and flopped down. “Can you at least tell me how she likes her coffee?”

“Oh, that I can tell you.” Clint’s smile turned lecherous, and Maria shuddered.

“Ew, no, we’ve established we do not talk about our sex lives, or lack thereof, just tell me.”

Clint laughed and sat across from her. “Nat likes her coffee dark, rich, and strong. Black as sin. I don’t know how she drinks it.”

Maria thought about her own two cream-two sugar order and grimaced.

“Well, that’s a place to start, then.”

==========

Natasha clocked out of work exhausted, and not sure why. She’d helped exactly one customer, and it had been a perfectly nice young woman picking up her bridesmaid dress for an out-of-town wedding. Hardly demanding.

 _Coulson certainly doesn’t know how to slow down, though,_ she thought, thinking about how he’d kept her moving all day, learning how the store functioned, the register, the stock. No rest for the virtuous, he’d said, grinning. Ah well, at least he’d promised her plenty of hours. 

She stretched as she walked out of the store and down the street to where she’d parked her car. A beat-up Subaru, it was older than some of the high-school kids she’d glimpsed running around that day, but it ran fine and would for at least a few more years. She slid into the driver’s seat with a sigh, feeling more at home behind the wheel than she did in her tiny new apartment.

She had just slipped the key into the ignition when she saw the woman from that morning running down the sidewalk. _Yes, a very handsome woman,_ she thought for the second time that day, watching the way her legs pumped, hair flying out of its careful bun to flutter around her strong jaw. The woman went right past Natasha, sitting quiet in her car, and caught the bus about to pull away from the stop.

 _Ah,_ Natasha thought. _I wonder if she lives near me? I could offer her a ride home, perhaps._

She entertained such fantasies on the short drive to her apartment, of the brunette being charmingly grateful for the rides, of sitting with her at stoplights, of the two of them talking about- what?

 _Don’t be stupid, Natalya,_ she thought fiercely. _Such a woman has little in common with you. Do your job, save your money, get your degree, and move on._

She parked her car with finality and banished her daydreams. 

_Love is for children, Natalya. You won’t be finding it here._

==========

The next morning, Maria made sure she saw red hair through the window across the street before running out the door to order two coffees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think, and who you want to see next! I'll be posting more next week, and I do take comments and requests into consideration :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maria and Natasha meet! It goes... about as well as Maria expects anything in her life to go. Dammit.

Maria strode into The Ugly Mug, which had been open for several hours at this point and was redolent with the smell of fresh coffee and muffins. Tuesday was banana nut, one of the few redeeming features of Tuesdays.

“Pepper! I need my usual, and one medium black.”

The slim woman lounging behind the counter raised one perfect eyebrow before looking up from the heavy textbook she’d been browsing through as though it was a glossy fashion magazine. “Black coffee? Who for?”

Maria felt a flush creep its way up her neck, and told her blood firmly to get ahold of itself, dammit. She opened her mouth to say it was for Fury, but Pepper raised one hand to forestall her.

“The good director takes his with one cream, no sugar, and prefers hazelnut, so don’t lie to me. Clint drinks his sludge directly from the pot on a good day. So. Who’s the black coffee for, Maria?”

“Damn these small towns,” Maria said feelingly. “Why did I ever want to live in one, they’re terrible, everyone knows everything.”

“Honey,” Pepper said, leaning forward and grinning, “I’m the neighborhood barista. I’m practically a priest, it’s like people come for confession instead of caffeine. I know everything.”

Maria tried to glare at her friend and nearly succeeded.

“For example,” Pepper went on, “there’s a new girl working in Coulson’s salon who takes her coffee black. Not that that means anything, of course.”

Maria gave in to the blush, and managed a real glare for about a second. “How do you do these things?” she asked. “You’re terrifying.”

“I know!” Pepper said cheerfully, beginning to pull the drinks with crisp, efficient movements. “So. You’re bringing the new girl in town coffee. Do you know if she’s…?”

“No,” Maria sighed. “Clint might know, but he’s got tight lips all of a sudden.”

Pepper nodded. “Well, let me know once you do, so I can start steering people away if necessary.”

“Pep, I take back anything mean I ever said about you,” Maria said as she picked up the drinks. “You’re a real pal.”

“Mean things? When did you- what have you been saying, Maria? Also, you know you have to pay for those!”

Maria had nearly made it out. She paused in the motion of pushing the door open with her butt. “I most certainly do not. Ask your boss about it.”

“Ask- what did he do now?”

Maria headed down the sidewalk, Pepper’s familiar shout of “TONY!” ringing behind her.

==========

Natasha was enjoying the quiet morning. The music Coulson chose for the store was generally pleasant without being insipid, the sun was out but not too bright, she’d found a good parking spot, and she’d finally broken in her new shoes. This was going to be her day.

She was parsing out the register, practicing ringing up a return now that she’d mastered basic sales, when the bell over the door jingled. Her head shot up, and she could feel her face opening into an expression of surprise as the handsome woman from across the street came in, bearing two travel cups of coffee. The cups were gold and red, clearly not from the Starbucks a few blocks away.

Natasha stared at the woman, who seemed extremely nervous. She realized belatedly she should shut her mouth, and pulled on a pleasant expression.

“Ah, hello!” she managed. “What can I do you for?”

A beat. The handsome woman stared at her. Natasha thought about her words for a moment and-

“What can I do for you!” She laughed awkwardly. “Sorry, English isn’t my first language. My name is Natasha. How can I help you?”

==========

Maria was staring at Natasha, and knew she was staring, and knew she should stop, and couldn’t. Her brain had immediately supplied an answer to Natasha’s first question, and that answer had been “anything, please god,” and it had taken an immense force of will to not blurt that out.

The heat of the coffee in her hand brought her back from the astral plane her gay soul had departed to. _Why didn’t I order iced coffees?_ she wondered inanely. _It’s fucking July._

“I brought you coffee,” she said, holding out the relevant cup. Natasha’s smile stayed fixed in place.

_This is going terribly! She thinks you’re weird! Abort! Abort!_ the warning bells in Maria’s head were screaming. _Leave before you embarrass yourself further!_

The two women stared at each other for another beat. The song playing ended, and the next one began, _whomp whomp WHAT’S NEW PUSSYCAT, WHOAAA—_

And Maria burst into sudden laughter, and Natasha felt her face crease with amused confusion, and the tension dissipated like morning mist. 

“I’m sorry, that was a terrible beginning, can we start over?” Maria said, breath catching in her throat as she tried to throttle down her vast amusement at Coulson’s choice of music. “Hi, I’m Maria, I work across in the bookstore just across from here, maybe you remember seeing me yesterday? I thought I’d bring you some coffee and welcome you to our little street.” She proffered the coffee once more, as Tom Jones insisted his love for his pussycat.

Natasha came around the counter and accepted the cup, inhaling the fragrant aroma of the Ugly Mug’s house blend.

“I’m sorry I didn’t think to get iced coffee, it’s a bit hot for fresh brew, but-”

Natasha cut Maria’s babble off. “No, no, is a kind gesture. Thank you. Smells wonderful.”

“Clint told me you like your coffee black,” Maria confessed.

“You know Clint?” Natasha raised the cup to her lips, for want of something else to do. She didn’t know what to think of this; was it normal, in small towns, to gossip and do such favors?

“Oh, yeah,” Maria went on, “ever since he showed up here three years back and beat up his brother. I was the one who drove him to the hospital to get patched up afterwards. It was his car, of course, but he couldn’t have driven in that state.”

Now Natasha was intrigued. Tom Jones was cut off, to be replaced by John Mayer crooning about bodies and wonderlands. “Would you like to sit? I don’t know this about Clint. What happened with his brother?”

Maria followed Natasha to a grouping of couches, when they settled, and Maria began the tale of How Clint Came To Kirbleigh. Natasha listened raptly and tried to ignore the way Maria’s shoulders filled out her shirt, the muscles shifting as she gestured; Maria was determinedly not staring at the way Natasha’s hair shimmered and curled around her face under the warm light.

Neither woman noticed how much time had passed until Coulson came out from the back and asked if either of them wanted to order lunch, at which point Maria rose from the couch.

“I have a shift at Shield this afternoon, thanks though. Do you want to- we could-” This last directed at Natasha, who was startled by how long she’d been chatting with this woman and abashed at being caught slacking by her boss on her second day.

“What? Oh-”

Coulson, smiling like a cat with a feather on its mouth, said smoothly, “I’m sure Natasha would be happy to meet you at the bookstore after her shift, wouldn’t you, Ms. Romanov?”

“Yes!” She grasped this like a life preserver. “It has been so lovely to talk with you, Miss?”

“Maria, please,” she replied, smile a touch forced but clearly honest.

“Maria, then.”

“She’ll see you at four,” Coulson said as Maria headed out the door.

“Until then!” Maria’s voice echoed back.

When the door had closed, Coulson turned to Natasha, who was fully expecting a reprimand. Instead, she found herself fixed with a gimlet stare for a long moment, then a nod. 

“Well, if you’re into women, you could hardly do worse,” Coulson said. “Can’t fault your taste. Now, I was thinking we’d order something from the sandwich place, and you could pick it up.”

And Natasha, stunned by the lack of reprisal and the implication about Maria- really? could she? no, surely not- simply nodded and said nothing and waited for four to roll around.

==========

Maria, standing outside the bridal salon, managed to not leap into the air with joy. She hadn’t made a fool of herself, and Natasha was probably - well, maybe- anyway, Natasha was coming by Shield after her shift, and it was enough like a date to send her heart singing.

_Maria,_ she thought to herself at she rushed to the store, _if you’re this excited about just_ seeing _her again, you can’t ever ask her on a real date. You’ll die. Your heart will explode. Cause of death: lesbianism._

And with that thought causing a paroxysm of laughter, Maria ran to work with more enthusiasm than she’d had in years. _Four o’clock!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing Maria, The World's Biggest, Gayest Lesbian is one of my greatest joys. Let me know who/what you want to see more of!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maria gets stood up; Natasha makes a new friend.

Maria was sitting behind the counter, glancing at the clock every ten seconds or so, on average. It was nearly 4:20 and while normally she would be expecting a terrible joke about pot from Clint right about now, Maria was anxiously wondering where Natasha was.

They had said 4 o’clock, right? Yeah, definitely 4. But what if Coulson had said 4:30? Maria’s brain ran around in circles.

 _Quit it,_ she told herself. _Yeah, you’re basically in love with her after talking to her once, but that’s no reason to act like a total fool._

 _But what if she’s not coming? What if she never comes?_ wailed her brain. _What if you misinterpreted everything? What if she hates you? What if she’s straight??_

Maria took a deep breath. Chill. She was chill. So relaxed. Totally calm.

The bell over the door rang, and Maria knew she was definitely not at all chill. Not even an ounce of chill in her body. But it was Clint, and he had a look on his face that made Maria’s stomach twist up.

“What?” she asked, before he could say anything. “Is something wrong?”

“No...t really,” Clint said. “I’m just the bearer of bad news, and I hate being the bearer of bad news. It gives me indigestion.”

“Clint,” Maria glared, now truly nervous. “What. Is. It.”

“Natasha sends her regrets, but something came up and she had to go deal with it,” Clint said. He looked apologetic and also like he expected her to hit it. Well, he wasn’t an idiot, anyway.

“I know that sounds like bullshit,” he rushed on, “but I swear to god, it’s the truth. I can’t tell you what happened-”

“Of course you can’t,” Maria huffed, feeling far more disappointed than this turn of events warrented. Natasha hadn’t even agreed to meet up after her shift, Coulson had arranged it; maybe Natasha had been planning to brush her off, and Coulson had only prolonged things.

 _She wasn’t acting like she wanted to brush you off,_ Maria’s brain whispered. 

But Maria was realizing that bringing Natasha coffee, exactly the way she liked it, and chatting with her in her workplace was super creepy. Like, exactly the behavior she detested in men. God, how could she have been so stupid? Of course Natasha had been polite, she was at work! She couldn’t have said anything to deter Maria if she’d wanted to.

_Dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit….._

Clint squinted at Maria. “You’re doing that thing where one bit of rejection sends you into a spiral of self loathing, aren’t you?”

Maria regretted ever getting drunk with the man.

“Don’t,” Clint said. “Remember how I told you that she’s got a complicated past I can’t tell you about? Something happened and she needed to help, it’s time sensitive and she’s the only one who could do anything. So this isn’t about you, Hill, I swear. Don’t freak out.”

Maria just stared at him, her brain spinning like a hamster stuck in a wheel.

“Ugh,” Clint sighed, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand. “Okay. I feel responsible for this, even though none of it is my fault. I hate being the messenger. It makes me want to shoot myself.”

“Shut up, arrow boy,” Maria said. “Fine, I get it. No hard feelings.”

“Want me to bring you some dumplings?”

Maria felt an unexpected swell of affection for the well-meaning disaster known as Clint Barton. 

“Yeah, pal. That’d be great. Thanks.”

“Okay,” Clint said, clearly relieved to have said something right. “I’ll be back in a few, then. Stay right there.”

“I’m on the clock!” Maria called to his receding back. “I couldn’t leave if I wanted to!”

==========

Natasha was bent over the computer, leaning forward over the shoulder of the slender young man who was typing rapidly on its flat keyboard.

“I think that should do it,” he was saying. “The funds should be locked up good and tight. You’ll just need to contact anyone who actually _should_ have access and let them know about the new routing number and access pin. But otherwise, you’re good.”

“You are sure?” Natasha couldn’t help but be wary as she leaned back and looked at him. This man was skinny and small, his skin pale and fingers like slender sticks. He looked about 18 years old; how could this boy be sure the money was safe from the branch of the Russian mafia that was after it?

“Yeah, I’m sure,” he said, swinging his chair around. “I know I don’t look like much, but when your body is as dysfuntional as mine, you pick up hobbies that don’t require physical excercise. I couldn’t rob a bank if I wanted to in person, but online? I’m basically unstoppable.”

“Well, thank you, Steven,” Natasha said, reaching for her purse. “Let me…”

“No, no,” he said, waving a dismissive hand. “It’s for a good cause, Clint gave me the rundown.”

“He did?” Natasha arched one disbelieving brow. Clint may be a mess, but he had proved himself trustworthy so far, and she doubted he’d have given her away to this boy.

“Well, he gave me a general outline, anyway,” Steven Rogers said, his pale face showing every ounce of blush now flooding it. “It’s for a good cause, like I said. I’m on your side. I want to help.”

“No one helps for nothing,” Natasha said, letting a touch of chill enter her voice. “If you’re looking for another form of payment…”

“No, god, no!” Now his face was truly resembling a tomato. “No, I’m just a decent American who wants to help. Isn’t that enough?”

Natasha smiled, almost against her will, at this tiny man who seemed to be selfless in a way she had encountered very rarely in her short, hard life. “It can be enough. It just rarely ever is. Thank you, Steven Rogers. I owe you a debt.”

She extended her hand for him to shake, and she was surprised by how firm his grip was, even with such slim fingers. 

“It’s my pleasure, ma’am,” he said formally. “I’m happy to help, any time you need it. Just shoot me a text. But please, you don’t owe me anything. Really.”

“There is much red in my ledger, Steven,” she said. “It would be my pleasure, indeed, to pay back someone who has done so much for so little.”

He rose from his chair, and he barely reached past her chin. Natasha was not a tall woman, but this Steven was diminutive. He walked her to the door of his suite, which he shared with a dark-haired man Natasha had only glimpsed. 

“Really, Natasha, any time,” he said again as she slipped her shoes back on. “You have my number, right?”

She reached into her bag and held up her phone as an affirmative.

“Good, good. I, uh, look forward to hearing from you.” His blush reappeared. “Not! That I want this to happen again! I just mean that, uh, I want to help. And I’d like to. If you need it.You seem very capable, though, so I’m sure you can handle it. Just if you need me. I’ll be there for you. I, uh.”

“Thank you, Steven,” she said, smiling for true. It was as though the further from his laptop they got, the more nervous he became. She idly wondered if it was this way all the time, or if he was more nervous around women. 

Nat offered him her hand to shake once more, and she slipped down the hall and out the door of the dorm without receiving a second glance. This building was mostly inhabited by grad students, enough of whom stayed over the summer to justify it staying open. It was mostly deserted, however. Natasha wondered if she could come here to do her laundry for free; surely Steven would let her in? 

The clock on her car dashboard read 4:57 when she started the engine. _Blin, blin, blin._ She hoped Clint had been able to convey to Maria that she had not wished to stand her up. 

Driving away from campus, Natasha wondered if Maria would still be at work. Perhaps she could still stop by?

She turned the car, almost without thinking, to head back towards the center of town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be making a real effort to update at least once a week, if not more often! Thank you all for loving these kids; let me know if there's someone you want to see, and I'll make it happen. Like I've said, all the major MCU characters have a place in Kirbleigh; I'm ready and willing to bring them in if you want them :)
> 
> Natasha's backstory is going to start coming out! Who's excited?


End file.
